


Et tu, Brute?

by SlytherinPsychopath



Series: Tom/Harry Oneshots [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Julius Caesar references because I don't know why, M/M, Mind Fuck, Politician turned Dark Overlord, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 22:25:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinPsychopath/pseuds/SlytherinPsychopath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Could you do a parent!Harry/Tom fic? Where they raise a child together?</p><p>Parenting is hard. Marrying the Prime Minister is harder. Watching your kids suffer as your husband, their father, becomes a dark overlord: impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Et tu, Brute?

**Author's Note:**

> So, this one got away from me. It was supposed to be a cute story about their bratty kids and normal parenting experiences. That didn't quite happen. Sorry.

_April 23, 1960_

Tom sat nervously outside the room. He could hear Harry yelling and screaming. He sure as hell wasn't going to go in there. The one time he walked in on a lady giving birth at the orphanage had been enough for him to know he didn't want to see that. Sorry Harry. Tom values his sanity more than he cares about comforting you. The screams were replaced by heavy breathing and then an infant's cry. Tom stood up and peaked into the room.

            "Now you come in, you big coward," Harry hissed, but his face softened dramatically the moment the healer placed their son in his arms, all red and smushy-faced and covered in red blood and other goo Tom didn't care to think about. "He's beautiful." Harry smiled softly.

            "He looks like excrement," Tom stated bluntly. Harry glared harshly at him.

            "Yeah, well, he must get your good looks then," Harry poked his tongue out. Tom chuckled softly. The healer used a gentle cleaning spell on the infant before leaving. Tom thanked her for taking a house call to which she just grinned and said she couldn't wait to deliver the next as well house-call or not. Tom blinked and shook his head. She obviously didn't know what she was talking about.

            "Have we finally decided on a name?" Harry asked, not taking his eyes off their son.

            "Did we not agree on Salazar Slytherin?" Tom raised an eyebrow.

            "No. Gross - just no. My parents are looking down on us from heaven. My dad and Sirius would weep if I agreed to such a thing!" Harry rolled his eyes.

            "But they're not weeping about the fact that the man who killed them in your timeline is also the man your husband could have grown to be?" Tom questioned.

            "My parents. Oh Merlin. Tom, what's the date?" Harry asked with a wince.

            "April 23, 1960. Why?" Tom asked with confusion. "He's got the same birthday as Shakespeare," Tom noted. Muggle or not, one had to appreciate the man's literary and creative genius.

            "My dad's birthday is March 23, 1960," Harry pointed out with a frown. "They'll go to Hogwarts together. Merlin’s beard. Why didn't I think of this? I really did screw up the timeline." Harry groaned and threw his head back.

            "Love, we already went over this. When you came back, you created an alternate timeline. It's hardly going to affect you," Tom reassured him.

            "Still. What if he fancies my mother!? What am I supposed to tell him? Sorry, that 16 year old girl is your grandmother?" Harry frowned.

            "James. Let's name him James. James Salazar Slytherin," Tom said to distract him.

            "You only want that name because people at school will call him Salazar so there aren't two Jameses in the same year," Harry huffed. "But, I like it."

            "I knew you would," Tom chuckled and rolled his eyes. Silly, sentimental Harry.

            "I hope he's a Gryffindor," Harry smirked and kissed Salazar's face. Tom’s face contorted in disgust, but he didn’t speak a word.

* * *

_June 1961_

Harry strolled through Diagon Alley on his way to purchase new clothing for their rapidly growing one year old. Salazar (or Sal as Harry and others took to calling him when Tom wasn't around to bust a vein) wiggled from his place in the stroller.

            "Sally, please, stop moving. You'll fall out," Harry pleaded. Salazar stopped for a moment then continued to attempt escape.

            "No! VROOM!" He yelled, twisting to look back at the Quidditch supply store. Harry opened his mouth, but stumbled as he bumped into a woman with a stroller. He looked up to see none other than a heavily pregnant Walburga Black, pushing a young Sirius Black in the stroller. Harry tried his hardest not to gasp or freak out. This, after all, would be his godfather.

            "Oh hello Harry. Hewo wittle Sally." Walburga smiled radiantly at the infant. Harry has been extremely surprised to learn Walburga hadn't always been the crazy bitch in her portrait, rather a remarkable young witch with a friendly countenance and beautiful smile. "How's Tom?"

            "He's living. Life as the Minister of Magic can be tiresome for him," Harry shrugged. "Is this Sirius?" He asked. The child looked up at Harry with large, grey eyes and a happy but confused smile. Sirius stuck part of his fist in his mouth, slobbered on it, and then gave a little wave.

            "Oh yes! He's just the most intelligent child. He knows how to talk and walk and speaks a bit of French already," Walburga boasted proudly. "He'll grow up to be a good heir. I can feel it in my bones. So quiet and obedient. Even at a few months old, he slept through the night and behaved himself. Never yelling or throwing a fit in public." Walburga smirked pointedly. Harry clenched his jaw. There's the old bitch in the portrait starting to come through. Then Harry remembered who she was talking about, and he smiled widely.

            "The perfect heir. How wonderful," Harry smiled blissfully, enjoying the irony of her words. Motorbike riding, half-blood werewolf-loving, Gryffindor and proud of it Sirius would definitely be the perfect heir.

            "Vroom?" Sirius asked, staring at Salazar. Salazar pointed behind him and bounced up and down.

            "VROOM!" Salazar yelled. "WHOOSH! VROOM! CRASH!" He clapped his hand in a dramatic manner as if that explained everything.

            Sirius shook his head and scrunched up his face. "Loud," Sirius frowned, putting his hands to his ears. Harry stifled a laugh.

            "He'll grow up to be a fine young man," Harry smiled.

            "And Salazar. He seems... enthusiastic," Walburga barely tried to hide her sneer.

            "Enthusiastic is a good word," Harry considered, and it was. "Guess he takes after the Potters."

            "Hmm... How unfortunate." She pursed her lips, looking down at Salazar like he was scum of the Earth. "I'm sure he'll grow out of it."

            "Perhaps," Harry shrugged. _Hopefully not_ , he tacked on silently. Walburga and Harry exchanged a few more pleasantries before they both went off to do their own business. Life would definitely be interesting for Salazar.

* * *

_December 1963_

Parenting really wasn't for Tom. He stared down at the little boy who stared right back with brilliant green eyes. The boy was his - no denying that. The marvels of modern science mixed with a touch of magic allowed the two men to conceive a child. That child was now three years old and, well, a monster. Sure, the kid looked like an angel. He had Tom's dramatic good looks and charm mixed with Harry's wide innocent eyes and air of purity. But Tom was certain he was monster.  It was the first time Tom was left alone with the child - honestly Tom wasn't sure how it took this long. The child - fine "James Salazar Slytherin" - has already thrown a fit, undressed himself, ran around the manor stark-naked, colored on the walls with crayon, caused an explosion in the potions lab, and eaten two jars of peanut butter. Without milk. What sort of demonic being could this child be? The longer the two sat in Tom's office staring at each other, the more and surer Tom was that Salazar was trying to kill him. What other explanation was there for this little beast behave in such a way?

            "Fawder!" Salazar finally squealed, hugging Tom tightly. Tom shifted uncomfortably.

            "James Salazar. You are a Slytherin. This is not proper behavior," Tom informed him tightly. Salazar laughed in contempt and made hissing noises without meaning behind them.

            "He's three, Tom.  You know, that was a poor choice of surname," Harry said arrogantly from the door frame. When did he arrive home? Tom tried to replay the day's events in his head. He wouldn't put it above Harry to watch him suffer mercilessly with the demon child. "What if he's a Gryffindor like his dear old Da?"

            Tom scoffed. "No spawn of mine could ever be a Gryffindor. Besides, the hat put you in Slytherin the second time around. That's all that matters."

            "Gryff-dor!" Salazar yelled.

            "He's named for one of the more famous Gryffindors at that," Harry laughed.

            "He's also named for Salazar Slytherin himself," Tom sneered. He couldn't stand the very thought of his seed ending up in such a filthy and reckless house.

            Harry smiled, clearly amused at how this subject got so far under Tom's skin. He walked over and picked Salazar off the table. "What do you say, Salazar? Are you brave and bold and awesome like your Da or are you slimey and evil like your Father?" Harry grinned.

            "Da!" Salazar yelled and hugged him.

            "Excitable one, isn't he?" Tom sighed tiredly. Had Harry been like this as a child? Tom knew from the matrons at the orphanage that he himself had been a rather quiet baby. Maybe something went wrong with the spell and Salazar ended up more like Harry than Tom.

            "He's just a baby, Tom. I'm sure he'll grow into the perfect heir for your enterprise," Harry rolled his eyes. "Watch. Salazar would you rather play Quidditch-"

            "BROOM! VOOM VROOM!" Salazar giggled. He clapped his hands and pretended his hand was a broom zipping through the air.

            "Or do you want to show your father your new talent?" Harry continued

            "What new talent?" Tom asked cautiously, hand slipping to his wand to block any flying object that might come his way.

            "Fawder! Watch me! Lookie!" Salazar ran over to the stones on the window sill Tom kept for good luck. Salazar raised his hand and shut his eyes tightly. After a few seconds, the stones began levitating. As Salazar grew red in the face, they clattered downward unceremoniously. Tom couldn't fight the small smile that came to his lips. Of course, their child would try to teach himself magic. Had Tom not done the same thing?

            "You are a prodigy, my child," Tom informed him in a smooth, relaxed voice.

            "Uh huh! Guess what! I can talk to Nagini too! NA _GINI_!" Salazar yelled and then hissed loudly. Tom raised his eyebrows. He supposed he was about Salazar's age when he began speaking to snakes since there wasn't a time in his life he could remember not being able to. What surprised him more was that Nagini hadn't told him about this development.

            The snake slithered into the room and curled around Salazar loosely and protectively.

            "Yessssss, young sssssspeaker?" Nagini questioned.

            "I love you!" Salazar laughed and hugged the giant snake.

            "I hope you realize this isn't normal" Harry said upon seeing Tom's small smile twitching to be even wider.

            "I hope you realize I don't particularly care. Looks like there shall be a second opening of the chamber of secrets."

            "Tom, we agreed that our children would be brought up knowing murder is wrong," Harry sighed.

            "Children? When did we agree on more than one? I can hardly handle this demon!" Tom changed the subject fluently.

            "I just thought a little girl would be nice... we could name her after our mothers... Lily Merope," Harry frowned as he said the name, "Merope Lily. Merlily. Merolily. Lilope. Lerope. Mily."

            "After a muggleborn and a squib?" Tom frowned. Harry smacked him as he continued to try to make the names work together.

            "Lily M." Harry said uncertainly.

            "Perhaps Walalily?" Tom suggested.

            "I'm not naming my daughter after your whore-slave-woman," Harry huffed.  “Lily Luna it is then.”

            "What daughter? I do not remember agreeing to this!"

            "I caught you with your trousers around your ankles," Harry shrugged and smirked. Tom opened his mouth, genuinely offended. Harry, pure sweet innocent little Harry, had seduced a response out of him? Tom couldn't decide whether he felt violated or impressed. Perhaps both.

            "What do you say Salazar? Do you want a little sister?" Harry asked him.

            Salazar looked up at Harry like he was the devil himself and those words were blasphemy. "NO! I get all the cuddles." Salazar screeched and hugged onto Nagini who praised him as an intelligent child for not wishing to share his parents’ attention.

            Tom smirked and folded his legs. He leaned back in his chair with a cool smile. "Case and point, love. Case and point.”

* * *

_February 1966_

            “James Salazar Slytherin. Front and center,” Tom called to his five year old son. Tumbling over his own feet, Sal ran up to his father. He was wearing his new dress robes with a proud smile on his face. Tom looked him over, straightening his collar and fussing slightly with the one wild curl that twisted in towards Salazar’s face rather than away from it in a more dignified manner.

            “Yes, Father?” Salazar smiled.

            “Salazar, I expect you to be on your best behavior at the party. Smile and don’t say a word unless directly spoken to,” Tom told him firmly.

            “What if I have to use the bathroom?” Salazar asked with a snotty smirk. “Or if someone’s trying to kidnap me for ransom money? Or I’m _dying!_ ”

            “Then I suppose your sister will have your inheritance all to herself,” Tom replied coolly and looked up at where Harry was fussing with Luna’s fly away black curls. The baby sat quietly.

            Salazar frowned and sent a glare towards his sister. Tom knelt down beside his son and patted his shoulder awkwardly.

            “You’re intelligent enough to know I would never let anyone kill you. To do such would be to take something that is mine. What do we do to people who steal our things?” Tom prompted firmly.

            “Ask them to nicely give it back?” Salazar drawled with a shit-eating grin. Tom raised an eyebrow. “If they refuse, then we take it back by force,” he continued haughtily. Tom nodded and stood back up elegantly.

            “Don’t teach him bad things!” Harry yelled over his shoulder. Tom chuckled.

            “Too late, Love. I believe I’ve claimed this one for the Death Eaters,” Tom smirked.

            Harry turned around with a curled lip and piercing eyes. “Don’t you dare even joke about that,” Harry growled. Tom put his hands up in surrender while Salazar laughed happily.

            “Do you think Sirius Black will be there?” Sal asked his face dropping.

            “What’s wrong with Sirius?” Harry questioned with concern.

            “If his nose gets any higher in the air, he won’t need a broom to fly,” the young boy pursed his lips and pretended to flick long hair as he put his nose up in a ridiculous manner. “If his hair gets any longer, his mum and dad should be looking into proper suitors to marry their daughter off to in a few years. No one would know the difference.”

            “Salazar, the Blacks are a good family. You’d do well to become better acquainted with them,” Tom told his son firmly. “If Sirius is there, I expect you to treat him with the utmost respect.”

            Salazar huffed and crossed his arms. “Yes, Father,” he intone sadly. He shoved his hands into his pockets and prepared to sulk for the rest of the night.

* * *

_June 1966_

            Tom loosened his tie as he sat on his and Harry’s bed. Harry was changing into his night clothes, having put their six year old and two year old down for the night.

            “Something up?” Harry asked, deciding to forgo the shirt in hopes that Tom would actually touch him tonight. All the stress at the Ministry seemed to put a damper on Tom’s libido.

            “I talked to Salazar’s tutor today,” Tom said blankly.

            “Oh?”

            “He informed me that Salazar, while being far brighter than most children his age, often displays a sharp tongue and ungracious attitude.”

            “Wonder who that reminds me of…”

            “Shut up. He also says that Salazar refuses to learn foreign languages and would rather focus on muggle science.”

            “I don’t see anything wrong with that. I mean, there are translation spells.” Harry rubbed Tom’s shoulders gently.

            “But muggle science?” Tom shook his head. There was a long silence, then Tom began talking about these moronic protestors who tried to expose them to muggles. Harry tried to listen. He really did, but patience wasn’t one of his virtues.

            “Shut up and fuck me, Tom.” Harry finally demanded. Tom turned to look at him with an amused smirked.

            “Well, that’s one way of asking,” Tom hummed and kissed Harry teasingly. Harry would have none of that. If it hadn’t been for the silencing wards on the walls, they probably would have woke the children.

* * *

_September 1, 1971_

            “Come on, Sally! You’re going to be late!” Harry called from the living room. Luna sat on the island, kicking her feet.

            “Dad, why can’t I go to Hogwarts?” His seven-year-old daughter asked with a whine. “I’m far more intelligent than Salazar could ever hope to be.”

            “You can go… when you’re eleven,” Harry ruffled her already messy hair. Dark brown eyes glared up at him, and she rolled her eyes.

            “Dad, I can’t do this,” Salazar said as he walked down the stairs with his trunk in tow. Harry flicked his wand to shrink it for him. Salazar caught it and smiled his thanks.

            “What’s wrong, son?” Harry clapped Salazar on the shoulder.

            “I just think I should be privately tutored. You know, Minister’s kid and all. Yeah. Someone might try to kidnap me or kill me as some political stunt. Or-“

            “If they kidnap you, I promise they’ll give you back within the hour,” Harry laughed. Salazar sighed.

            “What if I’m not in Slytherin? What if… what if I’m in Gryffindor! Or worse: Hufflepuff!” Salazar cried melodramatically. “Salazar Slytherin – the Hufflepuff! Cruel fate, why doth thy hate me so!”

            “Don’t.” Luna sneered unpleasantly. “You’re a Slytherin, Sal. The stupid hat isn’t going to put you anywhere but Slytherin. Descendants have the easiest time getting into their respective houses. You would know this if you paid attention to anything your tutor ever said!”

            “Now that that’s settled, we’re going to be late,” Harry informed them impatiently. They both grabbed onto Harry’s outstretched arms. He twisted on his heels and they apparated with a crack to King’s Cross, Platform 9 and ¾. Salazar stumbled upon landing while Luna rolled her eyes at her graceless brother.

            “Oh Harry!” Walburga called, spotting them. She was standing there with her two sons. Salazar sent Harry look of desperation to get him out there.

            “Hello Walburga,” Harry smiled, giving Salazar a shrug. Luna smiled charmingly.

            “Hello, Mrs. Black,” Luna greeted her, looking so much like her father. Harry could already see the little hooks Luna was plunging into Walburga’s heart strings. “Sirius, Regulus.”

            “I thought we were late,” Salazar complained, his face twisted with discomfort.

            “Your face is going to get stuck like that if you keep it up,” Sirius informed him snottily.

            “Is that what happened to you?” Salazar sneered. Sirius snarled and glared disdainfully. Oh and Sirius had definitely learned that glare from his venomous mother.

            “Okay, none of that,” Harry said firmly. He hugged Salazar to his chest and told him to go find a compartment.

            “Love you, Dad,” Salazar muttered with embarrassment, avoiding the mocking laughter it earned him from Sirius.

            “I love you too, son,” Harry ruffled his hair and Salazar left, looking back several times. Sirius looked between father and son with something akin to envy and disdain.

            “Yes, Sirius, you should be on your ways as well,” Walburga told him. Sirius nodded once and walked off without another word.

            “Children, what can you do?” Luna gave a cute shrug. Regulus nodded in agreement causing Luna to smile at him happily.

            “I hope they’ll grow out of that bickering. Being dormmates should help, don’t you think?” Walburga suggested. Harry knew they wouldn’t be roommates but said nothing. There was a very slim chance that the hat would put a descendant of Salazar Slytherin anywhere but Slytherin, and Sirius was definitely a Gryffindor.

            “Hopefully,” Harry agreed.

            “You don’t seem so sure that Sal will be a Slytherin,” Walburga said with a cruel smirk. Regulus snickered.

            “Legally, he’s been a Slytherin for eleven years now,” Luna informed her quietly.

            “It’s not Salazar I’m worried about. Good day, Walburga,” Harry winked, grabbed Luna’s hand, and apparated them back home. Luna was laughing joyously by the time they got back to the manor.

* * *

_November 1973_

            “Who’s idea was the whole parenting thing?” Tom asked unhappily, falling into his office chair unceremoniously.

            “Yours.” Harry remarked, leaning against the wall. Tom’s office was much more like a library. Every wall was covered in books besides the small space for his desk. He kept it dimly lit, using lamps to read and work by. The musk of books and a smell so utterly Tom wafted through the air, settling over Harry like a warm blanket on a cold winter day.

            “Liar,” Tom muttered. They sat reveling in the silence for a moment. How rare was this silence. True, Salazar was out of the house and nine year old Luna was an extremely quiet child. A child is a child though. Between Tom’s rapidly more demanding job and Harry’s position as a prominent political figure as well, their lives were just busy. It was like they had not time for themselves or their children. Salazar and Luna had both grown up seeing more of their tutor and nanny than of their parents. This guilt burdened Harry at moments like this, but Tom seemed totally unaffected by his lack of a relationship with his children. Actually,  Tom felt like too much of his time was dominated by his children. That’s a fact made Harry’s skin crawl.

            “I’m bored, Harry,” Tom sighed. “I’m done being Minister. There’s no real power in the position. I want more,” Tom looked up at Harry from under his eyelashes. The last time Harry had seen such an expression, Tom had resorted to opening the chamber of secrets.

            “Well, what do you want to do? You could teach,” Harry suggested. “The Defense Against the Dark Arts position will likely be open again next year.”

            “Harry, I’m passed teaching!” Tom nearly snarled. “I want – no I need more control Every cell in my body aches for it, Harry.” Tom licked his lips unconsciously. “I want you to be by my side as I do it.”

            “Tom,” Harry’s voice caught in his throat. He shook his head slowly and straighten up. Then his voice dropped to a whisper, “how exactly do you plan on doing that?”  

            Tom jumped up from his seat and walked over to the nearby bookcase. He pulled out a thin book and tossed it to Harry. Harry caught it and stared at the bold words “JULIUS CAESAR by William Shakespeare” on a tattered copy of the play. He gently opened it and saw inside pages had been dog eared and nearly every margin was stuffed full of Tom’s hurriedly scratched commentary. Pointing out where Julius went wrong. People to avoid. Techniques Julius and Antony used to sway crowds and become so popular. Harry didn’t quite understand one comment. On the line “Et tu, Brute” Tom had circled it and wrote “Harry?” but then later has scratched it out adding a scribbled “impossible.” Then it dawned on him. Tom already saw Harry as a potential threat to his plans.

            “I took you advice and read up on some muggle literature. I found this one particularly insightful,” Tom spoke coolly. His dark eyes studied Harry, waiting for the man to show some reaction or sign of betrayal. He needed to know if Harry would be his Antony or his Brutus. This moment was critical.

            “I don’t want you to kill people,” Harry said firmly, looking in Tom’s eyes fiercely.

            “You want to overthrow the ministry without a single casualty?” Tom raised an eyebrow. “It would be hard.”

            “Well, if anyone can figure out how to do it, it’s you,” Harry tossed the book onto the desk. Tom glanced at it and then at Harry. “Just… tell me why? What’s so wrong with the ministry? Sure, it has its faults, but don’t we all?”

            “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars but in ourselves, that we are underlings,” Tom hissed coolly, having made his decision.

            As he left the room, Harry muttered, “Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look.” He stared at the book contemplating.

* * *

_Later the Same Night_

            Darkness filled the air. Harry, after their argument, had gone to bed. Tom remained in his office, thinking. He finally got up and walked over to the fireplace. He kneels and tossed in the powder to fire-call. He put his face in the fire and waited for an answer.

            “Tom? What’s happening?”

            “Listen to me. Summon the Knights of Walpurgis, Abraxas.  For tonight, I strip you of those titles and you shall gain a new name and with it new power. Tonight, the Death Eaters shall form.”

            “Okay,” The blonde said hesitantly

            “And, it’s Voldemort to you.” Tom informed him with a sly grin. Abraxas returned it with his own cruel smirk.

* * *

_November 1975_

            Harry awoke in the early morning (the sun was a sliver on the horizon) to his house elf nudging him urgently. He rolled over and looked at the elf expectantly. Why in the world would Sebastian wake him at this ungodly hour.

            "Fire call, Master Slytherin, sir," Sebastian told him. Harry sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

            "Potter, Sebastian," Harry corrected tiredly. "Just because this arse changed his name, doesn't mean I did." He looked over at Tom was staring at Harry in a sleep-deprived stupor. "Come on, oaf. Luna's probably home sick." Harry pulled on his black dressing robes and ran a hand through his hair. Tom threw the covers off and walked over to the fire, still bare chested and his trousers hanging loosely on his hips. The man has no modesty, Harry swore.

            "Mr. Slytherin, Mr. Potter," It was Dumbledore who came through in the flames. "There has been an incident with your son. We require your immediate attention."

            "Step back then. I'm coming through!" Harry said urgently. Harry had lost all the bones in his arms and nearly died on numerous occasions without anyone being informed. This had to be bad if they were being called in. Tom followed through the flames just as quickly. They pit opened up into the infirmary but Dumbledore was nowhere to be found. Their fifteen year old was sitting the edge of a bed with his head in his hands.

            "Salazar! Are you okay?" Harry asked, running over to him. Tom walked with much more grace but still looked panicked.

            "I'm fine. I... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to," Salazar muttered, tears pooling in his eyes.

            "I don't care what you meant to do!" A loud voice yelled from across the room. A dirty and beaten up James Potter stood there fuming. "Do you realize what you've done? He's tore himself to bits because of you! Now your bloody poof parents are going to get him killed!" James had tears running down his face into large gashes.

            "I'm sorry. I thought it was an urban legend. I'm sorry," Salazar was nearly whimpering. Harry pulled him into a hug.

            "James. Give the kid a break. He didn't know," An older woman tried to sooth him. Harry presumed this was James's mother and the man beside her, his father.

            "Will someone please explain what happened?" Tom demanded. A younger couple walked out from behind their curtain.

            "Remus is going to be fine. No need for St. Mungo's. We got lucky this time," The man, Harry recognized him as Lyall Lupin. It dawned on Harry what has happened as he his head snapped towards the window where he could see the full moon setting. Harry then looked back as Salazar.

            "How could you be so stupid!" Harry said heatedly.  Salazar's eyes widened dramatically and his breathing caught. "You. Oh Merlin. Mr. and Mrs. Lupin, I'm so sorry."

            "Harry?" Tom questioned. Harry didn't yell at the kids. He certainly didn't call them stupid. Something had gone down, and everyone but Tom was in on it.

            "Dad?" Salazar said weakly.

            Harry looked up at the Lupins. "No one needs to know about this, let me make that clear. It someone wants to hurt Remus, they have to go through my dead body."

            Everyone else besides Salazar and Tom seemed to let out a breathe of relief.

            "Why are you helping us?" Sirius asked suspiciously from where he sat with the Potters.

            Harry smiled weakly and responded, "I had someone close to me with the same affliction. I wish they would have had someone in the Ministry that could have stuck up for them."

            Tom was staring outside. "A werewolf," he said with interest clear in his voice. He then looked at Salazar. "What possessed you to go chasing a werewolf on the full moon?"

            "I wasn't chasing Lupin!" Salazar yelled. "A couple of my mates and I had a bet. They thought the Shrieking Shack was haunted. I disagreed. I thought it was just some animals living there that everyone claims to hear. I thought I'd prove them wrong... I guess they were right. It's totally haunted. Ghosts and spirits and poltergeists and boggarts. That's all I saw in there."

            Harry nodded approvingly.

            "Why?" James said it this time. Both of them were giving Salazar piercing stares. "Why are you agreeing to keep his secret?"

            "Why not?"

            "Because we pick on you and your friends. We bad mouth you. And pull pranks on you. And we treat you as bad as we do Snivellus. Why would you want to help us?" Sirius demanded.

            "Listen Black, I have nothing to gain from putting a death sentence over Lupin's head," Salazar said slowly.

            "Not good enough. Tell me the truth."

            "Fuck you Black. I don't have to explain myself to you. Why am I helping you? Because I fucking feel like it, alright. You and Potter might be brutish swine, but Lupin's a decent bloke. He doesn't deserve this, and he certainly doesn't deserve to be ostracized or slaughtered."

            Sirius and James exchanged a defeated but relieved look. Salazar was staring down at his lap. And the entire atmosphere was tense, but Harry couldn't help but feel proud of the man his son was becoming.

            "Totally should have been a Gryffindor," Harry whispered to Tom even though everyone could hear. James and Sirius snickered.

            "Shut up," Tom huffed, begrudgingly thinking the exact same thing.

            "Father, why are you half-naked?" Salazar looked puzzled. The room went silent again. Tom looked down at his own body which (thanks to the one horcrux slowing his aging rather than tearing apart his body like the seven did) was still toned and decent looking.

            "Why aren't you? Too early in the morning to be fully dressed," Tom replied with boredom in his voice as if it was every day the Minister of Magic waltzed through the halls of Hogwarts half-naked.

            "No modesty," Harry muttered.

* * *

_January 1, 1976_

            “Is everything in place?” Tom asked the circle of dark figures around him. There was general consent. “Excellent. We apparate in. I will lift a non-apparation ward that will last ten minutes. You all know your assignments. The moment you can apparate again, do so. After that, you’re on your own to deal with anyone trying to stop us. You are under strict orders not to kill anyone no matter whom they are or where they come from.” Tom looked at his son who was masked and standing there looking unsure of himself.

            “Father, this isn’t right,” Salazar said quietly.

            “Do not question me, child. It shall be fine. If I had things my way, we’d just kill the lot of them. However, I think memory alteration will suffice,” Tom glared at him.

            “Yes, Father,” Salazar sighed and prepared to apparate no matter how illegal it was.

            The Death Eaters apparated into the Ministry, knowing their assigned departments. They all made quick work of silencing those who hadn’t fallen completely asleep with the sleeping vapor and altering the memories so that they would be more susceptible to Tom’s non-hostile takeover. If everything went as planned, the ministry would hand over every last ounce of power over to him. The public would be easily swayed so long as they saw so many of the people they know and worshiped bowing to Tom’s reign. The more skilled Death Eaters took over the aurors, planting ideals in their head. Not the Imperius curse. No, that would be too harsh, too predictable, and too noticeable. No, it must seem as if this was their ideas. Give them the allusion of free will.

            Tom turned around satisfied with having successfully laid claim to many of the department heads. He was about to check on the status of Charles Potter to make sure he didn’t wake prematurely when he saw none other than Albus Dumbledore lying limp in his sleep under Salazar’s wand. Tom grinned and patted Sal on the shoulder.

            “Well done, son,” Tom praised him. Tom mistook the shake of Salazar’s shoulders for laughter and continued on his way. Thanks to the mask, no one could see the tears burning down his cheeks or the vomit dribbling out of his mouth in a pathetic attempt to spew.

            Tom waited in his office. When he woke up and people began asking questions, he made sure everyone was under the impression some New Year’s pranksters had set off sleeping bombs in the air vents just like the one’s his Death Eater’s planted prior to their attack.

* * *

April 23, 1976

**ONE TRUE POWER: EMPEROR SLYTHERIN**

            _Emperor Voldemort Slytherin, formerly known as Prime Minister Tom Marvolo Slytherin, took his reign in our world as emperor a little over a month ago, but he’s been leading our magical community for over fifteen years now._

_In that time period, unemployment has become nonexistent, graduation rates for Hogwarts are at a record high (the man providing many children with scholarships out of his own pocket – the saint!), the economy is booming, all magical children have access to magical orphanages, and child abuse rates have plummeted._

_In just the last months, he has established anti-discrimination laws regarding race, sexual orientation, gender, ethnicity, nationality, species, and blood status. What does that mean?  All beings, including werewolves, will be protected from job discrimination. Emperor Slytherin has also established a taxation system that “allows werewolves easy access to the only treatment we have for lycanthropy. The prices apothecaries demand is reasonable concerning how tiresome crafting the Wolfsbane potion can be, but that does not mean poor werewolves should be denied the solution to all our problems. A werewolf with Wolfsbane is in complete control of himself. Thus there is nothing to fear. Anyway, this is what Mr. Damocles intended when he crafted it.”_

_Also…._

            Salazar stopped reading the paper here. He felt sick to his stomach. He knew better than most people that his father was unfit to hold any power, little less all the power. Yet he couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved. His parents’ relationship was finally repairing itself after a two year battle over what is easy versus what is right. It was selfish of him, but at least he had the peace of mind knowing that his dad would at least assure some good would come of this.

            “Can you believe Father actually cares about werewolves?” Luna drawled, sitting down beside her brother at the Slytherin table.

            “Can you believe pigeons have two heads and 800 eyes so that they don’t get ran over by automobiles?” Salazar retorted dryly. He stabbed his sausage with a bit more violence than was necessary.

            “True. Dad’s doing then? I thought Father said Dad couldn’t be trusted anymore,” Luna sighed. Salazar’s head snapped up to look at his little sister who was playing casually with a lock of her long, unruly hair.

            “When did Father tell you this?” Salazar whispered.

            “Years ago, Sal. You mean, he never told you? Dad tried to leave him and everything. Guess it’s a good thing Father’s cares more of his image than of Dad’s petty emotions,” Luna shrugged.

            “I guess he didn’t,” Sal muttered.

            “You are awful sad-looking for a prince,” A low, drawling voice commented as he took a seat across from Salazar.

            “Not right now, Snape,” Salazar grunted coarsely before leaving altogether. Luna rolled her eyes at her brother’s behavior. What a cad, she thought.

* * *

_July 5, 1978_

            “I hate you,” Harry hissed at Tom who sat arrogantly at his desk. “You can’t do this to him!”

            “I can, and I shall,” Tom smirked. “If you continue to throw a fit suitable for a child, you can show yourself out.”

            “I’ve wanted out for five years!” Harry yelled.

            Tom chuckled sadistically in response. “I don’t care what you want. You’re nothing property. My property might I add. So please, take a lesson from the wallpaper. Be seen, not heard.”

            Just as he said this, Salazar entered the room.

            “Very good, just the man I wanted to see,” Tom grinned. “I have found you a suitable partner. A nice pureblood girl. You may know her. Alice Prewett? She seems of your persuasion – daft and reckless. Pureblood though and from a respectable family,” Tom informed him.

            “Partner?” Salazar said without hope in his voice or a glimmer of life in his god-forsaken eyes.  “By that you mean spouse?”

            “Of course. Is that agreeable?” Tom challenged with amusement.

            “Doesn’t matter,” Salazar mutter. “May I leave now?”

            “Yes, be gone. I can’t stand the smell of absolute failure a moment longer,” Tom responded flippantly.

            “Don’t you dare speak to my son like that!” Harry growled quietly, wand drawn. Tom looked at it with a sneer. He didn’t expect the blast to explode from Harry’s wand and send him crashing into the bookshelf. Books rained down on Tom.

            “Listen here, you evil son of a bitch,” Harry growled. “You are done terrorizing me and my children and my country.”

            “Harry, I’m sorry,” Tom whimpered with child-like fear in his eyes. Harry loomed over him dangerously.

            “No, you’re not. I’m going to do what I should have a long time ago.” Harry grabbed the diary out of the drawer. With fire in his eyes, fiendfyre erupted from his wand, scorching the book out of existence. Then Harry turned his wand on Tom.

            “You won’t do it,” Tom mocked him, the fearful child replaced by fearless emperor.

            “Try me,” Harry growled. Tom’s eyes danced to the fine ash of was his horcrux then back to Harry.

            “Let me change. Give me a chance,” Tom pleaded, sorrow thick in his voice.

            “Why should I give you a chance? I think the time for chances is up,” Harry sneered.

            “Because you’re Harry,” Tom whispered faintly. His walls came crashing down. For a moment, Harry could see the seventeen year old boy he had fallen in love with.

            “I won’t kill you.” Harry relented, a feeling of dread coming over him as the sly smirk spread across Tom’s lips.

            “Thank you, Harry. I love you,” Tom smiled.

            “I don’t think you’re capable.” Harry said blankly and walked away.

* * *

             He kept walking and took his children with him. That night, Harry Potter said no and walked out of Tom Riddle’s life. Tom, without Harry’s aid, lost favor with the general public. He and his Death Eaters took to murdering innocents in the night. Tom produced several horcruxes and quick succession. This caused his body to quickly deteriorate. His promise to Harry was forever broken. Albus Dumbledore established the Order of the Phoenix with the help of Harry Potter and Salazar Slytherin.

            Luna, ran back to Tom, and was killed in action.  To her dying breathes, she blamed Harry for ruining their family. Tom didn’t even hold a proper burial for her.

            Salazar was slowly recovering from the mental and emotional abuse his father put him through. He did not fight in the Order of the Phoenix. Rather, he fled to the United States where he met a girl he loved. They married six months after they met and had two kids of their own: Remus and Harold Slytherin. Salazar turned a blind eye to the happenings in Britain and lived his life how he seemed fit: daft and reckless. He exchanged correspondence with Alice Prewett – pardon, Longbottom – and through letters remained very close until her untimely demise.

            But none of that mattered for tonight is the night of July 31, 1980. Harry stood outside Godric’s Hallow embraced by the high sounds of an infant crying. James looked out the window and stared down at the man. Harry winked and disappeared with a cloud of black smoke. The name wasn’t uttered again until October 31, 1981 when the one year old would vanquish the most evil Dark Lord to ever live.

None knew it, but that night before he died,  he spoke his final words with a wry smile on his face.

_“Et tu, Brute. Then fall Caesar.”_


End file.
